House of Salt and Sorrows(75)

“Rosalie?” I dared to ask. She swayed back and forth, giving no indication she heard me. “Ligeia?”

Rosalie extended her free arm, pointing a finger at me. No, not me. At something just past me, over my shoulder. Slowly, as if pulled by an unseen string, their heads turned toward the right. Their bodies followed, crossing down the path, drawn by something I couldn’t see or hear.

I turned to see if Lenore had spotted her sisters, but her window was now empty and dark. Was she on her way down here? My heart jumped as I put it together.

They were on their way to her.

I broke into a run, pushing aside palm fronds, my bare feet slipping against the slick stones. I fell once, bashing my knee against a statue. Blood ran down my leg, trickling between my toes, but I didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was getting to Lenore before my sisters did.

Every time I seemed to gain ground, they sped up, their movements a jerky blur, a vibrating haze painful to watch. The air buzzed as they shivered, and my eardrums felt as if they might burst.

My sisters reached the door. One moment, they were in the solarium with me, and the next, they were on the other side of the glass. I shook my head, certain it was a trick of the light, but Rosalie put her hand up to the pane of glass, pushing the door shut. It caught with a loud click.

I tried the handle, but they’d locked me in. I beat on the windows with my fists. When they grew too tender, I used my palms, then my feet, trying to shatter the glass.

My sisters watched me with a flat curiosity. Ligeia tilted her head to study the streak of blood across the glass after my knuckles split open. She pressed her fingers across the scarlet smudge.

“Let me out, please,” I begged. “You can’t leave me in here!”

She tapped at the spot once, then clasped Rosalie again. Her free hand reached out reflexively for Lenore, but it swung free, missing its mark. She looked down at the air beside her, clearly perturbed her hand remained empty.

With a nod from Rosalie, they were gone, buzzing down the hallway again with that awful vibrating movement. It was a relief to see their nightmarish visages go, but then I remembered Lenore and began banging on the doors again, crying out for help. I didn’t care if I woke the entire manor and everyone thought me mad. My sisters’ ghosts had to be stopped.



* * *





A series of soft clicks on the other side of the door woke me.

I lay crumpled against the glass panes, completely spent. My hands were raw and bloody, and I’d gone hoarse from screaming. After my sisters had blurred away, my eyes hadn’t seemed to work right, couldn’t focus on anything. I’d let them flutter shut, intending to rest them for just a moment, maybe two.

Suddenly the door opened and I fell, my head striking the wooden floor of the hallway with a painful crack. Gazing up, nearly cross-eyed, I saw the dark silhouette of Cassius peering over me with a candle, his face masked in concern.

“Annaleigh, what are you doing down here? You’re injured,” he said, taking my hands in his.

“Get away from me!” I jerked from his touch, tumbling down the steps into the solarium. My head spun as the room tilted sharply to the right, blurring to a fuzzy haze before sharpening with too much clarity, too many colors. My stomach lurched, fighting with the room’s off-kilter equilibrium. I grabbed at a potted palm to keep from turning upside down with it.

He straightened. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. Are you all right? I heard screaming.”

“Just stay back!”

I brushed bits of dirt and leaves from me, suppressing a whimper. Each sweep of my swollen hands was agonizing, but I couldn’t let him know I was in pain.

Seeing my sisters’ ghosts had convinced me Fisher’s theory was true. They had been murdered and had come back, haunting us until their killer was found. And though it broke my heart to think it, Cassius was the most likely suspect.

His every move now seemed deeply calculated to me. A sly hardness glinted behind his eyes, appraising the situation with care, taking in every possible detail.

My vision rushed in and out of focus again, and I briefly entertained the thought of a concussion before realizing Cassius was using my distraction to slowly cross into the solarium.

“Annaleigh, what happened? Your hands look awful.”

“I told you to stay away from me!”

He paused on the final stair, and I tripped over the hem of my robe, stumbling into the foliage. If Cassius truly had killed my sisters, I could only assume he would come after me as well.

Awful visions crowded my mind. Verity discovering my body floating facedown in the pond. Camille tumbling over my half-hidden ankle as they searched the house. Lenore waking up to see my corpse laid out beside her. Another funeral.

What would they do with my body? I couldn’t fit in the crypt with Rosalie and Ligeia still there. Would they dump me out at sea? Would I end up in the Brine with the rest of my family, or would I be doomed to toss about on the waves for all eternity, like a ghost ship never reaching port?

The room flipped on its axis again, and I struggled to keep sight of Cassius.

“You poisoned me,” I accused as black dots swam into my vision. This couldn’t be a concussion. I’d been drugged.

His face was a perfect mask of incredulity. “Poisoned? What are you talking about? Annaleigh, tell me what happened!”

He rushed toward me, and I wheeled around and raced down the path. I knocked over potted plants and small statues, anything I could to slow his pursuit, but his footsteps trailed closer and closer.